


i held your heartbeat in my hands

by beautifullights



Series: everyone has scars [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adventure, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crack, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Heartbeat Kink, Hurt Poe Dameron, Hurt/Comfort, IN SPACE!, Love, M/M, Over the Top, Poison, Whump, all the feelings, anyway enjoy, apparently that's a thing?, basically canon-compliant, but i may have taken a few liberties, but it's science fiction so please forgive me, who knew, with medicine physics time and/or space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullights/pseuds/beautifullights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They located the crashed X-wing and recovered the recon data files without a problem, but that’s no reason to let down their guard— certainly not on this semi-habited planet where three previous explorers have established an unsettling habit of not returning home. </p><p>"POE!" Finn shouts. "You have to hang on now. We're going home, ok? Keep breathing. I need you to keep breathing. Fucking BREATHE, Poe!”</p><p>Heartbeat.<br/>Heartbeat.<br/>Heartbeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. fucking BREATHE, Poe

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am neither a doctor nor a Star Wars extended universe expert. All inaccuracies and absurdities in this fic are entirely mine. Let me know if any of them drive you bonkers! I will do my best to correct them. This fic is mostly over-the-top crack. Enjoy, or skip ahead in the series.

They located the crashed X-wing and recovered the recon data files without a problem, but that’s no reason to let down their guard— certainly not on this semi-habited planet where three previous explorers have established an unsettling habit of not returning home.

Poe and Finn walk back towards their own X-wings slowly, blasters at the ready. Eerie noises filter in through the dense jungle cover, spooking Finn into pointing his blaster at first one, then another invisible enemy. Poe, at home in a jungle, stays steady, but Finn can see the focused vigilance in the lines around his eyes.

A quiet whir; Finn ducks, looking wildly around for its source. Poe laughs softly. “Just an insect.” He frowns and presses a hand to his upper arm. “Bit me, though.” They continue to advance, step by step, nosing deeper into the wild underbrush. Poe’s breath catches in his throat. Finn looks back towards him, sees a dark form peering out from a tree branch. He grabs the back of Poe’s shirt, yanks him out of the line of fire, and blasts several hot rounds at the shadowy figure. It falls from the tree with a solid _thump_.

“What the hell was that?” Poe asks, voice unsteady. Finn shakes his head. They creep closer. Two small dark heads appear from behind other trees. Poe and Finn fire at them, hit both targets. Poe is breathing hard, sweating like he’s just finished a set of laps around the base.

“Poe— you ok?”

“What?” Poe looks over, flashes an wavering grin. “Yeah. Yeah, buddy, I’m fine.”

“Poe.” Eight months of living and working and sleeping together has fine-tuned Finn’s Poe-shit detector.

“I’m fine, buddy. Don’t worry about me. Let’s just get the hell out of here, ok?”

Finn nods. They press forward, silent and watchful. Poe stumbles slightly, catches himself.

“Poe!”

“Just a tree root, Finn, calm down.”

The faintest crackle to their left alert them to more company. Finn pivots, fires, listens for the resulting thud beneath the trees. Poe’s first shot hits, but the second goes wild. Finn covers for him, listens— _victory_. The jungle is quiet again.

“Let’s just go a little faster, ok?” Poe asks. Finn nods, trying not to think about whatever is causing the narrow edge of fear underneath Poe’s steady exterior. They march quickly through the forest, scanning both sides for trouble. Poe stumbles again, falls to one knee this time. Finn pulls him to his feet, but Poe wavers on his feet. “I don’t feel so good, Finn,” he whispers. His face is pale and flushed with sweat. His eyes can’t quite focus on Finn’s.

“Poe? What’s going on?”

“Let’s just get out of here. We have to get out of here.” Poe clenches his jaw, bends over suddenly, clutches at his abdomen. Finn tightens his grip on the other man’s waist and drags Poe along beside him, Poe who keeps stumbling and tripping as though his feet will not obey his brain. Before they’ve gone ten steps, Poe’s knees buckle altogether and he collapses in Finn’s grasp.

“Poe!” Finn shouts. His lover’s eyes are fluttering open and shut. There is no time for discussion. Acting on instinct alone, Finn takes a knee behind a fallen log, blasts the hell out of the woods. Three targets down, flash of dark wings falling to the earth.

Finn hoists Poe up onto his shoulder, steels himself against the agonized groan that slips out of Poe’s lips, grips his blaster tightly in his other hand, and flat-out _runs_ toward their ships, alternately blasting and ducking. By the time he’s back in the clearing where they landed, Poe is racked with tremors, trembling in his grasp, muttering to himself in some language Finn’s never heard before. Finn hauls his lover’s shaking body into Black One’s cockpit, squeezes himself in behind him, closes the cockpit tightly against any further darts, gasps for air. “Poe!” He takes the man’s face into his hands, shakes him. Poe’s face is sheet white, his skin clammy, his pulse racing, his breaths shallow. “Poe, talk to me. What the hell happened?”

“Fi— Fi’, I—” Poe falls silent. His body goes limp.

 _“POE!”_ Finn screams. Poe does not respond. Hands shaking, Finn bangs on the comm until it responds. “Base? Base!”

“Commander Dameron! What’s going on?”

“This is Finn. Poe is hurt. Or— something. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Get medical,” the responder shouts to someone in the control room. It’s only a few moments later that Dr. Kalonia’s calm voice is on the line.

“Finn. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know! He was fine, and then he was just stumbling, and sweating, and then he collapsed, and now he’s out, he’s not responding at all, I don’t know what to do— there were these _things_ shooting at us, like small dark humanoids maybe, or bat-like things, I couldn’t really see. I think one of them shot him, but it wasn’t a blaster or anything, just a tiny silent thing, like a dart or something.”

Voices are muttering to each other in the background in some heated discussion. Dr. Kalonia comes back on the line. “Finn, we think he may have been poisoned. Is there any mark on his body?”

Finn pushes back Poe’s shirt, finds a spreading purple mark where he was bit— or shot. “Yeah. Kind of a round purple thing. On his arm.”

“Ok. It’s Myolinian nerve-toxin, then.” Muttered curses filter through the background of the comm connection, but the doctor remains calm. “Do you know when he was shot? _Exactly_ , please, down to the minute.”

“I don’t know, I—” Finn checks his chrono, thinks back. “Ten minutes, maybe? Fifteen? I don’t really know.”

“Ok. Finn, I need you to start up the ship as quickly as possible, ok?”

“Ok. Ok.” Finn’s hands are all over the controls, flicking switches. He shouts to BB-8, listens for the answering trill.

“Do you have the coordinates for the base?” It’s General Organa.

“Yes, General.”

“Good. Is there room for both of you in the cockpit?”

“Yeah. I mean, not really, but yeah, we’re in here now.”

“Good. Come straight back here, as quickly as you can.”

“Yes, General.”

Dr. Kalonia’s on the line again as the ship’s engines fire up. “Finn, I need you to listen carefully now, ok? You won’t be able to communicate if anything happens in hyperspace. Keep checking Poe’s pulse. If anything happens— I’m told there’s a joltwire in a small compartment on the right side of the cockpit?” They are lifting up, the landing gear is retracting, the X-wing is rising towards the sky at a steep angle, marvelously fast and smooth. Finn’s X-wing sits lonely and abandoned on the ground below them. It disappears beneath the cloud cover as they streak above it.

“Yeah. I see it.”

“Good. If you cannot find a pulse, turn the joltwire on and touch it to Poe’s chest at regular intervals. BB-8 can signal the correct rhythm.” If Finn can’t find a pulse— He shuts off that thought.

“BB-8 can also take care of most of the flying on auto-pilot if need be,” interjects the General, “so don’t worry about taking your hands off the controls.”

“Give him an oxygen mask to help him breathe,” Dr. Kalonia continues, “and fly as quickly as you can. You have 22 minutes from the moment the toxin entered his body.”

“Ok,” Finn responds, suddenly breathless. 22 minutes until _what?_ Finn does not want to ask. 22 minutes. Ten or fifteen gone already. At least seven back to the base. Black One is blasting through the planet’s atmosphere now, catapulting into the darkness of space.

It must have been only ten minutes ago. It will have to be. Because it is going to be ok. Everything is going to be ok. Finn’s hands shake on the controls.

“Going into hyperspace now,” he manages, voice hoarse.

“—Force be with you,” he hears the General say to him as the comm clicks off and the stars blur past him. Immediately he turns the controls over to BB-8, looks down at Poe, lifts his lover’s head up from where it’s fallen motionless against his chest. Finn panics for a moment when he can’t even feel Poe’s breathing. No— there’s a pulse still, faint but present, in the veins under his neck. He grabs the oxygen mask from its compartment beneath the seat, fits it tenderly to Poe’s face, turns it on. “Poe. Poe, can you hear me?” Finn strokes a hand down the side of Poe’s cheek, hands shaking. “Poe, listen to me. We’re going home, ok? Home to the base. We’re almost there, Poe, we’re so close. You just have to hang on, ok? Keep breathing. I need you to keep breathing, ok? BREATHE, banthafucker!”

Poe gasps; his eyes fly open, vacant, then shut again with an agonized grimace.

“I tell you what, Poe, let’s think of some nice things, ok?” Things that aren’t _you are going to die in my arms in the depth of space and I can’t handle that, Poe, I just can’t handle that—_

“Let’s think about Yavin 4, ok? You said you’re going to take me there one day, when the galaxy’s safe again. You’re going to show me around the temples, you said, and we’re going to lie together in a hammock under the stars, like you say you always did when you were little. Can’t you feel that, Poe?”

Tears are running down Finn’s cheeks. He checks Poe’s pulse again. His fingers are shaking too hard to get a decent read. He tries again, breaths slowly, focuses on the living warmth of Poe’s skin beneath his fingers. Poe’s eyes jerk back and forth under closed lids as he mutters, groans, shudders in constant convulsions, but his heart is still beating. Finn can’t stand thinking of Poe as _fragile_ , this daring man who loves so fiercely. But his life is trembling between Finn’s fingers now. Slowly ebbing. Minute by minute.

“POE YOU BANTHAFUCKER YOU’RE NOT LEAVING ME NOW! We’re going to grow old together, _old_ , do you hear me, Poe? We're going to live together forever. Forever and ever, Poe, I swear to you. Forever and ever.” Heartbeat. Finn adjusts the oxygen mask, drawing the clear molded form closer over Poe’s face. “Poe. _Poe._ ”

Finn bows his head over Poe’s and cries.

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and concrits please! Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Love you all <3
> 
> and yeah ok I'm totally sorrynotsorry for that cliffhanger. enjoy.


	2. don't count the minutes

Finn checks Poe’s pulse again—and again—and fumbles desperately for the joltwire in the side compartment, hands shaking, trying to not to black out with panic. “BB-8!” he yells through the mech channel, voice cracking. The droid responds with a clear chime. Finn presses the wire to Poe’s chest. Poe convulses, goes limp in Finn's arms. BB-8 repeats the bright tone. Finn steels himself, brings the wire down again. Poe's legs crack against the underside of the control panel. Finn wraps his legs around Poe's, trying to hold him steady. BB-8 chimes again. Again. Again. A warning sound _beeps_ through the cockpit, clashing with the droid's steady rhythm: _coming out of hyperspace_. Finn reaches for the control panel, drags the levers back to their positions, brings the ship down out of hyperspace. “BB-8? I can’t—I have to keep—can you land this thing?” 

 _Affirmative_. Eyes locked on Poe's motionless form, Finn doesn't bother looking out of the cockpit's transparent panels. He sends another shock to Poe’s heart.

They blast down through the atmosphere, break through the clouds just over the base. Finn touches the wire to Poe’s chest again, holds him to his chest through the resultant convulsion. Dimly he can hear the landing gear emerge with a low rumble. The ship rocks, steadies. They are on the ground. Finn reaches up to the cockpit, pushes at it— it’s already opening above him.

Green-gloved hands reach down towards Poe. “We'll take care of him, Finn. Hand him up.”

Finn pushes Poe up with shaking hands. The first medic takes a firm hold, heaves Poe's inert body out of the cockpit, hands him down the ladder to a second medic. Finn scrambles out after them. Too impatient to bother with the ladder, he jumps straight down. His knees buckle as he hits the ground—maybe because of the impact, maybe because of the tight coil of fear in his chest.

Dr. Kalonia is standing by the hypergurney, waiting for the medics to lay Poe's body down. The moment they have him stretched out on the hypergurney, she depresses a hypo of some luminescent green liquid into his arm, holding it steady while the injection enters his bloodstream. As soon as the syringe is empty, she pulls it out; the medics send the gurney to the medbay at top speed. Finn runs after it. Watches the first medic calmly shock Poe’s heart with a defibrillator as the gurney whirs around a corner. Again. Again. Finn counts between the beats in order to not count the minutes since—

They are in the medbay. The medics are hooking Poe up to a respirator and a heart monitor, shouting instructions to each other in terminology that shoots straight over Finn’s head. All Finn has eyes for is Poe, Poe who lies still, ashen face and sunken cheeks, lungs breathing and heart beating only because of the machines looming over his body.

Dr. Kalonia readies another syringe and presses it into Poe's other arm, a faint frown hovering between her brows. Finn doesn’t like that furrowed line, wants to punch it off her face, wants Poe’s eyes to open and smile at him and tell him he’s a fool for worrying. It’s been 12 minutes since Finn first talked to Dr. Kalonia. Is he dead? Is it over? Finn reaches for Poe’s hand, holds it tightly in his own, locks his eyes onto Poe’s closed eyelids, waits for him to wake up.

All is silent. One of the medics continues to press quick jolts to Poe’s heart. Poe’s face is drained of all color. His hand is clammy in Finn’s. Occasional tremors trigger unnatural contortions in his body.

Dr. Kalonia checks both of his arms and motions to the medics to shut off the machines. “What? What?” Finn gasps, panicked. “Why? Why are you shutting them off? He needs them, he can’t breathe—”

Dr. Kalonia looks at Finn with steady, steely eyes. “The injection sites are both green. The antidote is in his system. If he’s going to come out of it, it will be now. The machines won’t make a difference.”

 _Poe! Come on, Poe, you have to wake up. Please, Poe. Wake up._ Finn closes his eyes, grips Poe’s hand in both of his, tries desperately to breathe. The monitors are silent. The moments drag on, on, on—

 _Beep._ Finn looks up, face clouded with tears, sure that he’s never been so glad to hear a sound in all his life. The thin green spike slides off the screen and the line is flat again. “Come on, Poe,” Finn mutters. “Come on, you banthafucking nerfherding laserbrain—”

 _Beep_. “Oh, so that’s what you were waiting for? Ok. I can do that. Plenty more where that came from, you moof-milking rathtar-spitting Hutt-spawn—”

 _Beep._ Finn can’t keep a straight face any more; he laughs and hugs Poe, or tries to, at least, hindered by the respirator and the bed and the wires on his body. Poe’s skin is still clammy, his body still immobile, his breathing slow and labored, but— _beep_. Finn lets go of the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding in one shuddering, relieved sigh. He looks up, catches Dr. Kalonia wiping surreptitiously at her eyes. Noticing his gaze, she straightens and clears her throat. “Well. That’s that, then. He should wake soon, although he won’t be able to move on his own for another couple of days.”

“What _was_ it? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She presses her lips into a hard line. “Myolinian nerve-toxin. One of the most lethal substances in the universe, works on almost everything except for Wookies and Hutts. It’s illegal in most systems, but of course there’s a black market for it. Force knows where those creatures got it from. It attacks nerve endings in the peripheral nervous system, triggers them to fire without ceasing until they fail. Starts with sensory neurons, proceeds to somatic, finishes on the autonomic system.”

She smiles at Finn’s blank stare. They had done basic anatomy in stormtrooper training, but only to be able to catalogue all of the weakest points in human and alien bodies. “In other words, it starts by causing pain throughout the body, then attacks the muscles, then the organs— particularly the heart and lungs. It’s brutally fast. For his specs, it should have killed him in 22 minutes. The infection site was so large when he landed, I—” She clears her throat again. “I thought it was too late. I think you got him here no more than fifteen or thirty seconds before his heart would have stopped for good, unshockable.”

Finn puts his head between his knees and breathes. When he can sit up again without wanting to puke, Dr. Kalonia is looking at him with warm sympathy. “Fortunately, there is a highly reliable antidote, and few lasting effects. He will may experience brief tremors, arrhythmias, or difficulty breathing when extremely fatigued for the next five or ten years, but nothing particularly threatening. And he’ll regain full strength in a week or so.”

Poe is beginning to stir slightly, and groan, and gasp. His eyelids flicker, still closed; his face tightens in pain. Dr. Kalonia takes another reading of his vital signs and then slides a cool needle of symoxin into his veins. Poe shudders, relaxes, goes still. Finn doesn’t realize he’s been clenching his hands into fists until a sudden prick of pain stings where his nails have drawn blood from his palms.

“It’s ok, Finn.” Dr. Kalonia puts a reassuring hand in his shoulder. “The antidote worked. His nerves are beginning to regain function. That will hurt excruciatingly— like pins and needles, but far more intense, and throughout the skin and musculature of the entire body. I’ve put him out for the next 24 hours to spare him the worst of it. Go get yourself a meal, Finn, and a night’s sleep. He’ll do until then.”

Finn shakes his head, unable to rise. Standing would require him to let go of Poe’s hand, and that he could not do. Leaving the room would require him to go without the regular _beep_ of the heart monitor, and that he could not do either. Dr. Kalonia laughs softly. “You two. I swear.” She shakes her head. “I’ll have a droid bring in a cot and a meal, ok? Promise me you’ll eat and sleep. I made Poe do the same, when it was you in that cot, and we weren’t even sure you’d wake up, so I don’t think you have any excuses.” She bustles out of the room, herding the meddroid ahead of her, leaving Finn alone with his lover’s motionless body. Finn sweeps Poe’s hair off his damp forehead, presses a soft kiss to the spot.

“You’re going to live, you hear me?” he whispers to Poe. “You’re going to live and we’re all going to be ok. And you’ll wake up tomorrow, and open your eyes, and make jokes so I know you’re really alive. Because this isn’t funny, Poe, this _really isn’t funny,_ ” and suddenly he is crying, shuddering, unhinged by terror and grief and desperation, head lowered onto his arms, braced on Poe’s bed. He clenches his jaw against an overwhelming urge to scream until he can’t feel any more of this unbearable fear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to melodious_rain for the medical correction! Turns out that if you're touching someone at the same time as touching a defibrillator to their heart, your heart will actually also stop. So don't do what Finn did. (Also, don't take any medical advice from science fiction.) (Also--this one's for me--do some dang research before writing, you lazy bum.)
> 
> Comments and concrits always gratefully appreciated! Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Love you all <3


	3. remember that, please, always remember that

Finn wakes there a few hours later, picks up his head groggily from the mattress, stumbles a few steps backwards, falls down onto to the cot, and waits for his lover to wake up. He sleeps, wakes, and sleeps again, breathing in time with the quiet, steady, Force-be-thanked _beep._

 

 

 

Poe is awake. He hurts, every part of him hurts. He’s glad of it— it tells him he’s alive, still alive. If he were dead he would not feel any pain. Poe opens his eyes and squints against the dim light of the medbay room. Finn is there, slumped over in a chair by his bed— head on his arms, arms on his knees.

Poe watches him for a long moment, takes comfort in the slow rise and fall of his lover's broad back, the warm glow of his skin. _Finn._ Suddenly he can’t wait any longer. “Finn. Finn!” Finn's head jerks up, stares wildly around the room before his eyes settle on Poe. “Poe!” He crashes out of the chair, stumbles to his knees by Poe’s bed, strokes Poe’s hair back from his forehead with trembling fingers. “Poe, I—”

“Finn.” Poe interrupts him, desperate to get the words out  _now_. “I love you. _I love you._ I wanted those to be my last words. I was trying to say that, trying to, but I couldn’t, my mouth wouldn’t work right and I was so scared that— I was _terrified,_ Finn, that I would die without being able to say it again. I love you. I will always love you. I might die any day, Finn, anything can happen, missiles are everywhere, explosions, fucking _poison_ , I just— I need you to remember that I love you, Finn. Even if I don’t get a chance to say it, before— just remember that, _please_ , Finn, remember that. _I love you._ I will always love you. I—”

“Poe.” Finn’s voice is serious, deep. Poe reaches for Finn’s hand and holds on tightly, as though it will anchor him back into life. Finn closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, opens them again. “I’m going to make a deal with you, ok?”

“Of course, buddy, anything—”

“You will never, ever, _ever_ mention anything about the possibility of you dying again, ok? EVER. In any way. Do you promise?”

Poe nods, silenced by Finn’s intensity.

“Good. And in return, I will—” Finn clears his throat, dashes a hand at his stinging eyes. “I will remember that. And you will remember it for me too, ok? Ok?” Finn is hoarse with unshed tears.

“Ok. Buddy. I swear it.” Poe lifts a hand, tries to stroke Finn’s cheek. Finn clasps it in a strong hand and guides it to his face, ignoring the tremor that still runs through Poe’s hands. “It’s just, I mean it, Finn—”

Finn’s eyes turn dark and steely.

“But I’m not even mentioning the possibility, I swear. Not at all, no, never again.” Poe backtracks quickly to save himself from Finn’s glare. He wants to kiss Finn, he wants to so badly, but his neck won’t cooperate and the room is already starting to spin. Finn sees this in the sudden blankness in his eyes. He returns Poe’s hand to his side, intending to let him rest— but he can’t help pressing a soft kiss onto Poe’s lips.

Poe licks up into his mouth; Finn leans in closer, hands gripping Poe’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. He tastes tears suddenly, salty and warm, and he’s not quite sure whose they are because they’re both crying, silently, kissing as though it might be their last, but it won’t be, because Finn can’t think that way, he just can’t. They will live forever and ever, as far as he’s concerned, but still he’s grateful for the rough clench of Poe’s shaking hands on his waist, grateful to know that he will still be able to see the bruise tomorrow and know for certain that they are real, they are here, they are alive, they are together.

Poe lets go at last with a gasp, eyes closed, sucking in air, trying to catch his breath. He looks up at Finn, dark eyes hooded with exhaustion. “Sleep, Poe,” Finn whispers. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here next to you.” He starts to return to the chair. Poe reaches towards him again, hand trembling with damaged nerves, weary eyes fluttering open and shut.

“Stay,” he whispers. His hands pat the bed, try to shift his still-paralyzed form to the side to make room for Finn.

Finn laughs softly. “But—”

“ _Stay_ ,” Poe insists, and there’s a note of desperation in his voice that says everything he swore not to say to Finn ever, _ever_ again.

Finn’s breath leaves him in one winded gust. “Shove over, then.” He pokes Poe’s side, determined not to lose it again, and carefully slides Poe’s trembling form closer to the wall. He slips under the sheets behind Poe, wraps his arm around Poe’s waist, and pulls him against his chest, tight enough to still some of the shivers that still rack Poe’s body. Poe sighs deeply, leans back, and falls into a deep sleep, bracketed by the warmth of his lover’s arms.

Finn cradles Poe in his arms and stays fiercely awake for hours. He does not want to miss any of this: Finn, Poe, arms, warmth, safe, whole, here, love.

“I’ll remember, Poe,” he whispers at last, nuzzling into his lover’s neck. “As long as you do, too. But we’re going to live forever and ever, Poe, forever and ever, you’ll see. You’ll see.”

He dreams of temples, that night, stretching from a lush green jungle to the sky, a clear night sky filled with thousands of bright stars, linked into a network of constellations above a hammock where two lovers sleep, pressed tightly against each other, holding each other to the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa. I think I might have put a few pieces of my soul into this one. Hang on while I catch my breath. 
> 
> Comments and concrits always gratefully appreciated! Let me know what you think. 
> 
> And if you like what you see, feel free to check out the rest of the [series!](http://archiveofourown.org/series/388042)
> 
> Love you all <3


End file.
